Are You Kidding Me?

Are You Kidding Me?

The elder-level figures from the Royal Sacred Sect were truly exceptional individuals. Within the sect, they could even stand on equal footing with the sect leader himself. They regarded emperors of ancient nations and leaders of major reclusive sects with indifference. Their pride and arrogance were practically palpable.

For this particular elder of the Royal Sacred Sect, there were countless disciples eager to kowtow before him and become his protege. These individuals were the cream of the crop, the strongest Heaven Chosen among the younger generation. Joining the Royal Sacred Sect was an aspiration they had been nurturing for years.

In front of the gathered crowd, the elder extended a rare invitation to take Qin Wentian as his disciple. To him, this was a grand gesture, a sign of the utmost respect he held for Qin Wentian.

Standing beside the elder were a few youthful disciples. One of them spoke to Qin Wentian, "Master is not only incredibly powerful but also a renowned expert in weaponsmithing. Among the elders of the Royal Sacred Sect, his status is unparalleled. If you become his disciple, your status will surpass that of disciples under other elders. You'll have the opportunity to learn profound divine inscriptions from him, and when it comes to divine weapons and armor, you'll want for nothing."

The audience listened intently, knowing that this offer was incredibly tempting. For Qin Wentian, who had achieved the top rank in the Immortal Martial Realm, joining the Royal Sacred Sect through the Battle Sword Sect might entail uncertainties. However, here and now, he had the chance to join instantly if he agreed.

Regretfully, Qin Wentian declined, saying, "I'm sorry, but I currently have no intention of joining the Royal Sacred Sect." He had contemplated rejecting their offer earlier, but he hadn't expected them to be so persistent. While they saw their conditions as a sign of respect, Qin Wentian found them far from enticing.

Moreover, there was the matter of his ongoing conflict with Shang Tong. Ignoring the grudge formed during their encounter in Xuan King City, joining the Grand Shang faction within the Royal Sacred Sect would label him as disloyal to the Battle Sword Sect, a charge he couldn't bear.

In Xuan King City, the members of the Grand Shang royal clan had sought his demise, and it was only due to the assistance of the Battle Sword Sect that he had survived. Even if he were to join the Royal Sacred Sect in the future, his allegiance would remain with the Battle Sword faction.

As the echoes of Qin Wentian's firm rejection reverberated, a stunned hush fell over the onlookers. His decision, though rational, had caught everyone off guard. They couldn't help but admire his unwavering temperament.

However, the faces of those representing Grand Shang wore expressions of sheer dismay. The elder who had extended the unprecedented invitation felt a sudden chill. It was the first time he had ever offered mentorship to a junior, and now, to be publicly declined? It was a blow to his pride, and he struggled to maintain his composure. Striking a junior of Qin Wentian's caliber would only tarnish his reputation.

One of the disciples accompanying the elder couldn't contain his disdain. "What a fool, not recognizing a golden opportunity when it's presented to him," he muttered under his breath. The elder might have held his tongue, but his disciples had no such reservations. The same disciple continued, "Master, despite his momentary glory as the Immortal Martial Realm's top ranker, he'll soon learn the vastness of the world. How can a mere worm fathom the expanse of the sky? He's utterly clueless about the heights of heaven and the depths of earth, unworthy of being your disciple."

Another disciple chimed in, "Indeed, a sparrow can never grasp the ambitions of an eagle. His arrogance knows no bounds. Master, you lose nothing by refusing such a disciple."

The sharpness of their words cut through the air, aimed squarely at Qin Wentian. Did he have to accept the offer just because it was extended to him? And now, in the aftermath of his refusal, he had to endure this ridicule and mockery? It was a sobering realization for Qin Wentian, and he found it absurd that these two young men were willing to stoop so low to please their master.

Standing by Qin Wentian's side, Mo Qingcheng's demeanor grew icy. Her gaze, sharp as a blade, bore into the two young men. Their bodies shuddered under the intensity of her stare, feeling as though they were encased in an icy void. The empire-toppling beauty radiated an aura of authority, challenging them to reconsider their words.

But one of the young men, undeterred, wore a mocking smile. He seemed to taunt Qin Wentian, insinuating that he was incapable of defending himself and required a woman's protection.

However, Qin Wentian's lips curled into a slight smile, catching the two young men off guard. They exchanged puzzled glances, wondering about the meaning behind his words.

With unwavering determination, Qin Wentian fixed his gaze on them. His eyes held a hint of sarcasm as he spoke, "Thank goodness I declined earlier. If I had accepted, and became sect brothers with individuals like the two of you, it would indeed be a most embarrassing affair." His words hung in the air, leaving the young men to contemplate his intent.

With a resolute tone, Qin Wentian paid no heed to the unsightly expressions that plagued those from Grand Shang. He led Mo Qingcheng away, positioning himself next to the imposing figure of the Medicine Sovereign. Yet, he couldn't resist one final glance back, his gaze like a lance, directed squarely at Shang Tong.

"Get over here," he ordered with chilling authority.

Shang Tong's brows knitted together, his countenance darkening. The disdain evident in Qin Wentian's eyes struck a nerve, as if he were looking down on an ant, beneath his notice.

Recalling their past encounter in Xuan King City, Shang Tong had watched from on high, treating Qin Wentian's battle like a mere spectacle. At the time, their worlds were worlds apart, and he knew he could end Qin Wentian's life with a mere thought. However, that same young man he had once dismissed had risen to claim the top spot in the Immortal Martial Realm. Now, in front of a crowd, he was ordered, not asked, to approach.

Shang Tong's cultivation had reached the seventh level of Heavenly Dipper, but facing Qin Wentian, whose strength was on par with his own, he felt a distinct lack of confidence. Qin Wentian had comprehended power from seven stone monuments – a feat that was not to be underestimated.

"What do you mean by that?" Shang Tong retorted, his tone laced with resentment.

Qin Wentian's eyes bore into Shang Tong, his voice dripping with mockery. "Crown Prince of Grand Shang, do you remember what you said back in Xuan King City? Allow me to remind you. 'I should personally kill you for your crime of killing my subordinates. But if I personally make a move, I would only disparage my own status. Who doesn't know how to speak words of bravado? I once slaughtered my way out of a battlefield after being besieged by a million enemies. Every moment I spent there felt like a moment in hell, and for those I killed, all their cultivation bases were higher than my own. If you can survive today, you may qualify to become my opponent. I will kill you then.'"

Qin Wentian's cold gaze never wavered as he continued, "At that time, my cultivation lagged behind yours, yet you spoke those words to me. You even offered a Heaven Mending Pellet to whoever could kill me. This is an old grudge. I'm still alive, and now, my cultivation matches yours. Weren't you planning to kill me? Why are you standing there doing nothing?"

As Qin Wentian's words hung in the air, the spectators focused their attention on Shang Tong. The pressure intensified as Shang Tong felt the heat of embarrassment creep up his cheeks. The crowd watched with keen interest, anticipating a showdown between Qin Wentian and the Crown Prince of Grand Shang, Shang Tong himself.

Qin Wentian's words resonated with undeniable truth. If Shang Tong chose to back down now, his reputation would be irrevocably tarnished. As for those from the royal Shang Clan, their expressions mirrored Shang Tong's humiliation. The reality was plain to see: if Qin Wentian's strength equaled Shang Tong's, the Crown Prince of Grand Shang had no choice but to face his old adversary.

Fan Le, never one to hold back, joined the chorus of mockers. "How pathetic that a prince acts like a bully, preying on those weaker than him. His royal father must be so proud," he jeered. "And these people belong to the same clan as him, right? It's no wonder you declined to join them. With their character, their reputation will soon be known throughout the Royal Sacred Region."

Shang Tong's fists clenched, his anger reaching a boiling point. The predicament was clear: if he refused to confront Qin Wentian now, his reputation would be forever marred.

"Shang Tong." The elder of the Royal Sacred Sect shifted his attention to Shang Tong, adding, "Just engage in the battle. Even if you lose, it's a valuable experience for your future cultivation."

The elder seethed with frustration at the turn of events. It would have been acceptable if Qin Wentian had merely declined his offer of discipleship. However, Qin Wentian's audacity in forcing Shang Tong into a fight was a direct challenge to the elder's authority. Shang Tong, as a junior from his clan, was being publicly humiliated, and the elder couldn't let it pass without a response.

Accepting the elder's silent directive, Shang Tong nodded stiffly. He dared not oppose the elder's wishes, especially when he implied that even in defeat, Shang Tong's future would be safeguarded by the sect. With this assurance, Qin Wentian wouldn't dare to harm him.

"If you're so eager for a battle, I won't refuse. Today's events will be etched in my memory," Shang Tong declared, his voice a cold, resolute whisper. He stepped forward, moving closer to Qin Wentian, his demeanor radiating icy determination.

Suddenly, a gust of wind swirled around him, and an aura of unparalleled might burst forth. Shang Tong's eyes turned a menacing shade of gold, emanating an intimidating penetrative power. His cold-blooded intent chilled the onlookers to their bones.

The air seemed to vibrate with tension as the two adversaries stood ready to clash.

Then, like a thunderclap, the battle began.

A powerful gust of wind swept across the arena, and Shang Tong's body was enveloped in a formidable surge of energy. His golden eyes gleamed with a chilling intensity, and his gaze locked onto Qin Wentian.

But before he could react, Qin Wentian's form blurred, creating multiple illusory copies of himself. A torrent of colossal palm imprints materialized, each containing enough energy to rival constellations. These palm imprints descended like celestial giants, dominating the sky and shaking the very ground beneath.

In an instant, Shang Tong was obliterated, utterly crushed by a single strike. It was a spectacle that left the crowd utterly dumbfounded. Qin Wentian's combat prowess was beyond anything they had imagined.

Amid the wreckage of his body, Shang Tong experienced excruciating pain, but the emotional torment was far worse. One strike. He had been defeated in a single strike. The humiliation he felt was overwhelming, consuming his entire being.

Qin Wentian, victorious and unyielding, stared down at Shang Tong, lifting him into the air. The disdain in his eyes deflated Shang Tong's innate pride and arrogance.

"As you've said, who doesn't know how to boast? But little did we know, you're nothing but trash," Qin Wentian remarked, his voice laced with mockery.

"Release him!" An expert from the royal clan of Grand Shang intervened, commanding that Shang Tong be freed from further humiliation.

"Release him?" Qin Wentian's voice dripped with sarcasm as he turned his gaze to the intervening expert. "Are you serious?"

His words hung heavily in the air, plunging the arena into silence. Qin Wentian's audacity begged the question: would he dare to kill a Crown Prince of the Grand Shang Empire?